A Truly "Random Ramble..."

Since giving birth to our daughter a little over 4 years ago, I have become acutely aware of the people around me - much more so than before our sweet girl was born.  My husband and I began evaluating things like the people we hung around - if they were folks we'd want influencing our daughter as she grows up.  Would they be the kind of people who's lifestyles, behaviors, and beliefs line up with ours in so much that if, for whatever reason, Madeline would decide she couldn't come to Brian and I with an issue, that our friends would give her the same advice and guidance as we would?   

I also began overhauling our movie collection.  We don't own anything pornographic in nature or overly violent, but I admit we definitely had some movies in our repetoire that were definitely not ones I'd want Madeline to see.  For example, the movie "Double Jeopardy."  It's an interesting movie staring Ashley Judd and Tommy Lee Jones, however, in a scene toward the beginning of the movie, Ashley Judd's character is in an intimate scene with her on screen husband in which she is completely nude from the waist up.  It was one of those scenes that I really never thought about until Madeline came along and I got to thinking - is THIS what I'd want her to accidentally see or is this a movie I'd feel comfortable with our friends seeing in my collection??  The answer is a resounding NO! 

One of the biggest areas of life that I've really had to examine is not only how I dress, but how I allow, and will allow, my daughter to dress.  Ya know, parents, we have a HUGE responsibility to train and raise our children in light of God's standard.  The precedent we set with our children at an early age is going to set the stage for the rest of their lives - that's quite the responsibility, if you think about it!  The way we allow our kids to dress - or the clothes we put them in - even at an early age is going to be the standard by which we allow them to dress in the future.  So, I ask you, Moms and Dads - what's the standard that YOU are creating even now - are you going to teach your children, or as in my case, my daughter, to dress as a prostitute, or a young lady seeking after God's heart?

First, let's define "prostitute."  I think it many ways, we all have our ideals of what a prostitute is or is not.  According to Wikipedia, Prostitution is the business or practice of providing sexual services to another person in return for payment.  The person who receives payment for sexual services is called a prostitute..."  Wikipedia goes on to say the word, ""Prostitute" is derived from the Latin prostituta. Some sources cite the verb as a composition of "pro" meaning "up front" or "forward" and "situere", defined as "to offer up for sale".  Another explanation is that "prostituta" is a composition of pro and statuere (to cause to stand, to station, place erect). A literal translation therefore is: "to put up front for sale" or "to place forward". The online Etymology Dictionary states, "The notion of 'sex for hire' is not inherent in the etymology, which rather suggests one 'exposed to lust' or sex 'indiscriminately offered.'"  

Based on this definition, it's easy to see how we can allow especially our daughters to dress in such a manner as "to place forward," "expose [them] to lust," or indiscriminately offer them, intentionally or not, to the inappropriate looks and thoughts of boys and men around us.  Street prostitutes, in specific, solicit customers while waiting at street corners, sometimes called "the track" by pimps and prostitutes alike. They usually dress in skimpy, provocative clothing, regardless of the weather.  

How different, then, are WE when we dress in skimpy, provocative clothing or allow our daughters to do the same?  The intent for dressing provocatively may be different than that of a prostitute, but the result of dressing in such a manner is the same - it draws the eyes of men and inappropriate thoughts to be conjured up in the hearts and minds of those of the opposite sex who see us.

Our young girls need to cling to such a degree of modesty that their attire and behavior fails to say, "Look at me," and instead point to Christ and says, "Look at my Creator - His name is Jesus Christ.  Isn't HE amazing!"

Here's an interesting though - young girls, ladies - married or not - think about your swim attire for this summer.  Does what you're wearing cause the men you'll encounter to look to the Creator, or to YOU, the creation?  Does your attire cause your brother to stumble?  Does your clothing, or lack thereof, cause men around you to create thoughts in their minds - the kind of thoughts that only husbands should have for their wives?  Think about this - REALLY think about it.  If your answer is the latter, if your swim suit screams to the opposite sex, "Look at me - look at my body - aren't I HOT!?," then, Ladies, it's time to go shopping...

I'm sure there are a lot of people thinking, "Well, I'm not responsible for the way a guy thinks."  And I can tell you that type of thinking is down right incorrect.  Men are very visual creatures.  That's how they're designed.  And women, in contrast, are the object of what men see.  We are capable of having a VERY serious effect on men - from the way we walk and talk to the way we shrug our hair off our shoulders down to the way we dress.  Don't believe me?  Then I'd seriously suggest you pick up a really great book called "Girls Gone Wise in a World Gone Wild" by Mary Kassian and prepare to be enlightened...

I will likely expand on this topic in days to come.  But for now I leave you with this challenge:  Examine those things in your life that seem driven by the world's standard.  Things like clothing, movies, language, activities.  What do those things in your life say about you?  Do you resemble, or are you emitting the persona, of a scantily clad woman seeking attention from strangers?  Or is your heart, mind, soul, and body SO immersed in the Creator that those around you must seek HIM in order to truly see you??

Kale Rowan Teachout

It's been a while since my last blog entry - too long, I suppose.  So much has happened in the past weeks and months that I don't even know where to begin!

Tonight, though, I'm sitting at my computer feeling very compelled to tell a story - the story of the sweet baby boy my husband and I lost on April 21, 2013.  I will insert a disclaimer here that I have included photos in this post that some may find offensive.  If that's you - please accept my heartfelt apologies.  However, my intentions are simple.  If you or someone you know is pro-choice - encourage them to read this post and to consider the truth.

After two and a half years of trying for a second child, my husband and I finally conceived.  We were thrilled beyond belief and didn't even know until I was already 6 weeks along.  Sadly, at 11 weeks 5 days, our sweet son's heart stopped beating and he slipped away into the arms of Jesus.  So many think that a child at this stage of development is nothing more than a blob of goo or unidentifiable tissue - this post is to not just tell you, but SHOW you that is wrong and a complete and total lie... 

We found out we were pregnant on March 6, 2013.  I took a pregnancy test from Walmart and then went to the hospital in Pella for a blood test that confirmed it.  According to the blood work, I was 6-7 weeks along!

On March 8, 2013 we had our first ultrasound.  My mom was able to go with me and we were able to see “Baby Bean" and watch the tiny flutter of his heart beating - heart rate was 145.

On April 5, 2013, I had my second ultrasound.  My mom, dad, and daughter, Madeline, were there.  Baby Bean had grown SO much and we could easily see a head, arms, legs, and hands.  Bean was moving and kicking, although I could not yet feel his tiny movements, and we got to hear the strong steady sound of a heart beat - heart rate was 195.

On April 8, 2013, I had my first prenatal appointment with my doctor, Dr. Anne Hellbusch.  She told me that Baby's heart rate at the ultrasound was high, but that she had consulted with a specialist who said there was nothing to do at this point, but just monitor things closely.  Dr. Hellbusch was able to find the heartbeat again using a Doppler machine and Bean’s heart rate was still high – somewhere in the 190’s.

Up to my April 8^th appointment, I had been having some very minor bleeding/spotting.  Dr. Hellbusch said it was nothing to worry about and to be sure to drink plenty of fluids.  Following my April 8^th appointment, however, the bleeding was somewhat worst and culminated in a visit to the  ER on Sunday morning, April 14 as I had increased bleeding and a small (dime size) clot.

Neither the ER doctor or nurse could find Baby Bean’s heart beat.  They did some blood work which showed my pregnancy hormone was "a little low," which I later found out was actually in the 17000’s – it should have been 50,000+.  After 2 hours, the doctor sent me home saying that time would give us our best answer as to what was going on.

On Monday morning, April 15, I called Dr. Hellbusch’s office to report my ER visit the day before.  They set up an appointment for me to come in and have Dr. Hellbusch try to find the heart beat.  My appointment was at 10:00a.m. and Madeline was with me.  Dr. Hellbusch was unable to find the baby’s heart beat and said things looked bleak.  She sent us down to ultrasound and, sadly, it was confirmed that Baby Bean did not have a heart beat.  Dr. Hellbusch said that Baby had likely passed at some point over the weekend.  Brian and I are guessing Saturday, April 13^th as I was particularly tired and worm out that day and slept most of the day away.

Dr. Hellbusch sent us home with some materials about the Empty Cradle program through Hospice, designed to help folks who have lost children, as well as a supplies so that we could attempt to “catch” the miscarriage once it happened.  I had too much of a hard time with the thought of just flushing Baby Bean down the toilet. 

The next days were agonizingly long as I waited for the miscarriage to take place.  My sister, Melanie, came and spent Monday afternoon with me, Tanya, a dear friend from college, came on Tuesday.  Wednesday and Thursday were miserable days of rain and storms where Madeline and I were home alone.  I spent most of those days pacing - just waiting for something - anything - to happen.  The highlight of those days was that Brian and I chose a name for our baby.  We decided that we would give our baby the name Kale Rowan Teachout – Kale, which means “Sower of Truth” and Rowan meaning “Purchased.”   

My folks came on Friday which was a huge blessing after having spent 2 days alone.   

Saturday, April 20 was a beautiful, warm, sunny, Spring day.  Brian, Madeline and I spent much of it outside just enjoying time as a family.  Madeline had been really struggling all week with the loss of the baby.  We’re not quite sure how much of it she understands, but we can tell she’s very troubled by some of it.  She had been with me during my second ultrasound and had seen Kale's heart beating - she was also there the day we found out he was gone and saw his tiny body, via ultrasound, - no heart beat to be seen or heard.  

We started the morning off by getting Subway sandwiches and taking them out to Grandma and Grandpa’s farm for lunch.  Grandpa had his knee replaced on April 1 and was really having cabin fever – so we decided to go spend some time out there.  We headed back to our place around 2:00 and let our dogs, Zip and Dash, have a good hour and a half of exercise/play time.  We ended up heading over to our investment property around 4:30 to do some measuring and sifting through the dead grass and weeds for treasures, or “lost things” as Madeline calls them.  I really started getting worn out and tired and my low back was aching.  We headed home around 7:00 where I warmed up leftovers of Italian tomato chicken for Brian and chili for Madeline and I.  We put Madeline to bed around 9:00p.m. and Brian and I watched some TV before calling it a night.  I crawled in to bed around 10:30, but my terrible head/chest cold kept me from sleeping with incessant coughing and wheezing so I moved to the recliner in the living room. 

At 11:21p.m. I experienced my first contraction.  I wasn’t 100% sure that’s what it was, but as the night went on, I was certain that was what I was experiencing.  By 2:03a.m. I was in the bathroom for a potty break and prepared the bathroom for what was coming.  I cleaned the toilet and put my “hat” on the seat so it would all be ready when the time came.   

Finally, around 3:30a.m., I had a very strong contraction and could tell what was happening.  I made it to the bathroom just in time as Kale literally fell from my body onto the linoleum floor - PERFECTLY INTACT!  I gently picked our baby up and held him in my hand.

 

I called Brian and for the next hour and a half we stayed in the bathroom taking turns holding our precious child, crying, and thanking the Lord for the gift He’d given us.  Our baby was perfect – 10 fingers and 10 toes.   

Long arms and legs, just like Madeline.  Amazingly, it was as if God had literally cupped our child in His hands and delivered him to the bathroom floor – there was no blood on Kale – not even a drop!  Kale was a peachy color – covered in flesh.  The umbilical cord was no longer attached, but a small red bump on his tummy showed where it had been.  We took many pictures and awed at all of his tiny features – so intricately and perfectly formed!  He was truly the work of a Master Artist!  

Finally, I took a green and white striped flannel blanket and cut a small square to swaddle Kale in.

We wrapped our tiny baby in the cloth, kissed him, prayed another prayer of thanksgiving, and laid him in a beautiful tiny silver box. 

We don't know why we lost our lost our precious son, but I know, without a doubt, that our experience is part of God's greater plan for our lives.  There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of Kale, but I have no doubt that the first face my sweet boy saw was that of our Lord and Savior and that he's running and rejoicing in His presence - PERFECT!  And THAT gives me great comfort!   

Kale's name means "Sower of Truth," and I can't end this post without taking the opportunity to use his story to do just that - sow truth in the hearts and minds of those who may read this.

In the United States, 15 states have legalized abortions as far as 24 weeks gestation.  The fact is, a baby has a 35% chance of surviving outside the womb at 23 weeks - by 24 weeks, that number jumps to 70%!!!  (The American College of Obstetrics and Gynecologists, 2003).  People - we are killing children!  FACT - end of story!  There is NO DOUBT that at just shy of 12 weeks gestation, my son WAS formed - every feature from his eyes, nose, ears, mouth, fingers, toes.  He was NOT a blob of goo, mass of cells, or unidentifiable tissue - but a tiny little boy - a person - WORTHY of life!  No child is a mistake and each and every one should be treasured, protected, and fought for!

I'm no law maker or politician - I have absolutely nothing to gain by writing this post - but I believe there is oh so much to be lost if people like me don't come forward and share our stories.

What's more is by NOT sharing these words and images, my son will have died in vain.  Kale will simply be one of the many miscarried babies who the world doesn't recognize as a person or "human," when, in fact, he was truly a miniature developing YOU - and a mini developing me.  We ALL begin this way - created in our mother's womb and knit together with precision.  We are ALL "Kale's" at one point in our lives - we are ALL human - alive and developing from the moment of conception.  From the moment egg and sperm unite, life begins and your baby's sex, eye color and hair color along with all other inherited characteristics are determined!  At that very moment, the division of cells commences and some 266 days later, the cell division process culminates into the newborn baby you'll hold in your arms!  By week 5 a tiny heart begins to beat.  We are truly fearfully and wonderfully made!!

You wouldn't intentionally hinder or impede the growth and development of the child you hold in your arms, let alone do something that would cause that child's heart to stop beating thereby ending life - why, or more importantly, how, could one do just that to the child growing in the womb - regardless of developmental stage?   

Thoughts to ponder until next time...